


The Dragon's Wolf

by Iane_Casey



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, POV Daenerys, a good chunk of this is smut, smut with feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-11
Updated: 2018-08-11
Packaged: 2019-06-25 23:58:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15651591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iane_Casey/pseuds/Iane_Casey
Summary: Daenerys contemplates her relationship with Jon and the love she has for him.





	The Dragon's Wolf

**Author's Note:**

> I love writing Daenerys' POV and her soft side. Enjoy the smut that goes with that! This is unbeta'd, all mistakes are mine.

Raven curls parted easily for her fingers, the blackness a mesmerizing contrast to her skin, the weight of his head above her breast comforting, _grounding_. 

Here was a man who respected her, valued her opinions, treated her as an equal, and _loved_ her.

In her arms was a man she has come to love beyond words.

Before his arrival at Dragonstone and the moons after she was certain happiness would not come to her until she’d regained and reestablished the Seven Kingdoms her ancestors had brought together and lost.

As she lay abed with him sleeping soundly, his long lashes fluttering ever so gently over her skin, she decided that there was happiness to be had, still, beyond that which her coveted throne could give.

The thought of losing him alone physically made her heart ache. She could not imagine it coming to pass. She was more than grateful that she has not had any dragon dreams giving her a glimpse of what could be.

A small smile kissed her lips at the feel of his beard and the tip of his nose nudging the curve of her left breast as he adjusted himself against her, a possessive hand splaying against her side.

If anyone had asked her moons ago if she ever saw herself falling in love with this northern king at the most inopportune time, she would have dismissed them with a scoff and a roll of her eyes. A queen with so many things to accomplish had no time for such distractions, let alone fall into bed with a comely, stubborn man who would not swear fealty, brooded far too often for his own good, and strongly believed an army of dead mean risen were marching towards the living. But the days and moons went by and along with it came a deeper understanding of his character, of his _mettle_.

Through his actions, what few words he said, and the words he didn’t say but conveyed with his eyes, she came to know him.

He was not like everyone else. 

Far from perfect but perfect for her.

She had come to see Jon Snow, _truly_ see the man, and she was caught unaware by just how strongly he had stirred her heart back to life when she had feared it impenetrable by such feelings any more.

The love he bore her was empowering, but just as much the fear of losing him was unfathomable. Either of them could fall in the wars to come. She could lose him, or he could lose her.

Was it then selfish, allowing herself such happiness, such _pleasures_ , when most of those she ruled, the men she had called to arms, had to leave whatever family they had?

_No_ , she thought, her blunt nails grazing his scalp.

Above anything else victory was paramount, and when both wars have been won, more than the lives they all get to keep peace and order will be restored, and they would be able to return to their families knowing they were under her protection. She was not naïve- two wars would bring forth great casualties, but with victory change will come.

After that no more wars will break out if she could help it. If _she and Jon_ could help it, she corrected herself, for they were to marry at Winterfell. She would be his and he would be hers. Her heart fluttered at the thought.

_We will win_. With Fire and Blood, with her two sons and an army the likes of which Westeros has never seen, united in the fight against the Night King and his undead legion, they will emerge victorious. And then she will come for the Iron Throne and rid the world of Cersei Lannister’s madness.

“Stop thinking and sleep, woman.” The low, breathy burr of his voice ghosting over her tit was most arousing, causing her to playfully tug at a handful of his pretty hair. “I can hear you thinking in my _dreams_.”

“Your snoring is keeping me awake,” Daenerys retorted teasingly, causing him to look at her with furrowed brows and an endearing downturn of his lips. She smirked.

“Truly?” The concern in his voice tugged at her heart, so she dropped the joke and shook her head in negation.

“You were sleeping like a babe,” she revealed in a sweet whisper, fingers smoothing away the worry lines creasing his forehead.

Relieved, he exhaled and gave her a soft smile, glancing at his fingers seemingly marvelling in the softness of her silver hair, unbound, unbraided, and unburdened in the safety of their room at White Harbor- Jon had wasted no time letting Lord Manderly know of his intent to marry Daenerys and not one of his granddaughters.

His eyes softened as he looked at her before crawling up her body. He drew her into a kiss, their tongues meeting leisurely. She sighed contentedly at the feel of his heavy length against her thigh and the scrape of his beard on her neck as he kissed his way back down to where his head had been. For a few moments she was awarded with him savouring the taste of her tit with lips and tongue and before he let it go he gave her pebbled nipple a dizzying nibble.

She could still feel his seed within her, drowning her barren womb, the heady scent of it dry between her thighs.

There was no end in sight for her want and need for him. She was a slave to the addictive feel of him thick and throbbing inside her.

Given the choice she would never leave the safety of this bed and just stay in the comfort of his bare skin pressed to hers, the two of them cloaked in the sanctity of what they have started building together.

More than lust, more than base desire, theirs was a blossoming love she never believed she would come across in her lifetime.

“Try to sleep, Dragon Queen,” he rasped roguishly, the smacking of his lips sensual and exhilarating as he kissed his way down her torso, fingers spreading between her navel and mound, the pressure applied effectively making her shudder and not think about sleep at all.

No, she was very much awake now, ready to be taken and sated yet again.

There was love and need in his eyes when she pushed herself upright and caught his arms to move him between her legs. He was glorious, naked before her and stripped of whatever walls he had erected around himself through the years. His cock was almost fully erect, nudging at her in intermittent twitches, making her roll her hips towards his.

As her hands mapped the scars and hard planes of his torso she tilted her head up to receive his mouth, kissing him fervently as the spark within her combusted into scorching flames. She would have her fill of him and give herself in turn as many times as she possibly could. No one knew how much time they had left.

“You, my king, are-” Her breath caught at the feel of his lips on the sensitive skin right below her navel. A moan shook her throat as he kissed and laved his way down towards her nub and slit. She shivered at the scent of her essence pooling in and dripping out of her cunt.

When his skillful mouth settled over her cunt, the flat of his tongue greeting her core made her exhaled through her nose as she bit her lip to keep from crying out, her fingers encouraging him to taste her, to feast on her as he had earlier that evening, pulling his face closer than was possible.

The tip of his tongue traced her seam before his lips took her clit in his mouth and lavished her with such focused attention she was writhing and gyrating her hips against him in seconds, swallowed whole by ecstasy and a fine sheen of sweat slowly starting to coat her heated skin.

Strong hands held her down as he drew his head back to look at her, his pupils blown wide, his beard coated in her wetness. Those eyes will be her demise, she was certain of it. Pools of the darkest shade of grey sucking her into a pleasurable oblivion she was more than willing to be lost to.

"Dany," he breathed into her heated flesh, making her shudder with another roll of her hips. He was already so close and yet she wanted him closer, under her skin even more than he already was, if possible.

At a loss for words every damn time he had his fill of her taste she simply hummed her approval, scratching at his scalp and eliciting a deep groan that heightened the throbbing of her cunt. It was incredibly titillating, the slurping sounds he made, his mouth feasting on her like she was the most delectable thing he’s ever tasted.

Air left her when he suddenly speared her with a finger, the movement eased by her abundant wetness. The pad of his middle finger slid in and out, assaulting the wall of ridged flesh within her that made her come unabashedly, made her shake uncontrollably in delirium.

Unable to keep quiet without wounding her own lip she let out a barely choked cry at another heavy run of his finger inside her and the feel of his tongue incessantly lapping at the engorged bundle of nerves at the apex of her cunt.

In moments she was losing herself to the overwhelming feeling of him touching and tasting her, and with the introduction of another finger within her tight walls and a final, singular lap from the tip of his tongue on her clit, her back arched off of the bed as she climaxed, breathless and blind from the pleasure that wracked her form. Eyes rolling to the back of her head she gripped a handful of his hair and another handful of the furs on the bed to anchor herself.

With his mouth, fingers, and tongue he slowly eased her from her climax, the pulsing in her cunt fading into a dull throb.

“Jon,” she puffed, voice hoarse from the guttural sounds she’d made. She called his name again, pulling at him so she could taste herself on his tongue and guide him inside her. She slept best with his seed warm and copious inside her, and the sound of his heart against her ear- she would have that tonight.

Tomorrow she would face the people he governed and suffer their prejudice, hatred, and skepticism once more, but tonight she will love this man and worry about tomorrow upon its arrival.

The taste of her and the ale he'd had for supper was an intoxicating mix, and when she moaned her approval into his mouth he tangled his tongue with hers, drinking from her mouth thirstily as she was.

He cupped her jaw and took her bottom lip into his mouth, his wiry beard abrading her skin in its wake. He bit at her lightly and she mewled as he soothed the sting with his tongue.

Taking his length in her hands she stroked him slowly, almost teasingly, making him pant like a wolf into the curve of her neck. Feeling the wetness at the tip of him she smeared it all over his cock, slickening him the slightest bit for her own benefit.

His forearms now cradling the backs of her shoulders he sucked at her pulse, his hips arching into her as she stroked him to the point of exploding. She could feel the throb of him in her hand and the dragon in her woke as she sheathed him inside her in one long slide.

Clutching at one another they moved, Jon pulling out only to thrust into her to the hilt and hitting the entrance to her womb. She held onto his back desperately, her blunt nails raking angry red lines parallel to his spine. One of her hands moved to pull him further into her, her hand cupping his perfectly sculpted ass.

"Harder," she whispered into his ear, and then nuzzled the side of his face, driven mad by the sight and scent of him and their combined sweat and essence. "I want to feel you even when we're apart tomorrow," she urged, filthy thoughts and words unbefitting of a queen raging through her mind as he filled her.

Her words seemed to have had their desired effect, feeling his thrusts intensifying as he rode her. Meeting him thrust per thrust her hips rolled, the slapping of their skin and the sound of him withdrawing and sliding back into her wet, tight clasp music to her ears. Would that it could be this way forever, she thought, without the burden of wars.

At a particularly hard shove of the blunt head of him against the edge of her she cried out, the sting and pleasure of him bottoming out within her making her eyes water. He's had her more times than she could count the last couple of weeks, and she must have overestimated her limits.

Taking a handful of the furs under her palm she pulled herself up and slung an arm behind his neck, breathing heavily from the pain. She was drawn away from her impending release when he stopped moving after hearing her whimper at his cock splitting her open once more.

"Did I hurt you?" he was quick to ask, withdrawing, his accent stronger when in the throes. She slid her hand from his neck to his face, shaking her head mutely against his brow, letting him know in a quiet whisper that she just needed but a moment to collect herself. She tilted her head to the side and his lips found purchase on her neck, sucking at it tenderly and marking her in the process.

One of his hands moved to support the small of her back as the other cupped the apex of her spine and nape. He nudged the side of her face with his own, pressing sanguine kisses all over her face.

"Go on," she ushered after a moment, rotating her hips to receive him again.

He looked at her, observing her state, making sure she wanted to continue. 

Before he could ask she shut him up by stealing a quick, reassuring peck from his lips, her heart full and brimming. "Be gentle," she added softly, earning a nod and another taste of his sweet mouth on hers as he gently guided himself back inside her. Slowly, and with his eyes watching her intently, he moved over and inside her, a hand sliding from her thigh to her knee to hitch her other leg over his hip.

One of her hands folded in between them, running across his flesh and the scars that never failed to remind her how close she had been to losing him before she even had him. Whatever forces brought them together, she was just thankful, for she could not imagine a future without him by her side, not anymore.

A shuddering breath left her as her senses reacted to the sounds of their coupling and his steady, shallow thrusts, the angle her hips were in causing his cock to rub against her swollen clit with his every move in and out of her.

Aflame, that was how she felt, surrounded and claimed by him, her king, her love. The smell of sex and sweat in the room was intoxicating, and it just heightened her senses, coaxing her closer and closer to the edge.

"Dany," Jon groaned, his forehead pressed to hers, barely able to keep his eyes on hers. His body was tensing above her, his climax imminent, and it always thrilled her that she could make him lose control, make him come.

Wickedly, she clenched her muscles around his girth, the feel of his thickness throbbing within her so satisfying that she repeated the action.

On a shaky breath her name escaped his lips like a prayer, always awed at something he saw in her that others could not, always reverent.

He pressed his lips to her once more before drawing himself up, and keeping his eyes on hers, he reintroduced his fingers to her sopping mound, spreading her wetness before rubbing her, hard, as he quickened his thrusts, maintaining the shallowness so his cockhead simply massaged the front ridge of her walls.

"No," she moaned when she felt him slowly start to withdraw to spill onto her stomach. Shaking her head, she pulled his hips back into the cradle of hers, pleading, "I want you in me." She wanted to be filled, to feel his seed within her. Maybe then he could prove Mirri Maz Duur wrong with his hopes and she could bear them a child of their blood; a babe half him and half her, half-dragon and half-wolf, a culmination of what she wanted more than anything.

A child. A family. A _home_. Things the woman within the queen inside her desired above all else.

Another slick pass of his finger over her clit, one final thrust, and she was coming with a cry of his name. He carefully buried himself further into her heat and spent himself within her clasp, causing her to rake her nails down his back at the sensation. The warmth of his seed pooling at her womb brought her unspeakable comfort and content.

His face now buried in the crook of her neck he panted heavily against her skin, and she ran her fingers through his hair and her legs tightened around him, so he could not pull out just yet.

There, she thought, melting into that grounding, calming feeling that took over her body and soul whenever they coupled or kissed or slept together or simply inhabited the same room.

One word, she wondered, one word must surely describe what she'd found in him, but she was uncertain for she had never truly felt it, never fully known it... for she was certain that it was found not in a person but a place.

_Home._

Was he her home now?

It felt like it, it truly did.

In the aftermath they lay quiet, boneless, sated- for now- and glowing and wet where they were stuck together. She savoured it.

A lazy smile formed on her lips after he'd regained whatever strength was left in his limbs to fall to her side and gather her up in his arms. She gasped in pleasure when his seed ran from her slit as his flaccid cock slipped out of her, a wet trail in its wake.

His heart was still drumming in his chest as she moulded herself to his side, so close one would not know where his began and hers ended.

She was never a believer of gods, but she was forever indebted to whatever entities sought to return him to this world and fated them to meet.

Tilting her head to catch his gaze, soft and warm, his pupils back to their wondrous dark hue, she smiled, her chest contracting as he returned it easily, happily.

"I love you." His voice was always firm yet thick with an undertone of insecurity since the first time he'd told her on that boat headed to where they were tonight.

It made her wonder how long it would take before he saw himself deserving of the heart he already owned, inwardly cursing the world that told him he did not deserve love and any of the good things the cruel world still had to offer due to the circumstances of his birth.

Her fingers feathered over his lips before cupping his cheek to fuse her mouth with his. When she pulled away his eyes were still closed, and her eyes softened as she took him in, her battle-hardened king.

She watched as his eyes opened, wide and innocent, meeting hers, waiting, _needing_ to hear her say it back until _he_ believed she was real.

Always unassuming, she thought fondly, sadly, and with a bubbling anger- children should not be punished for their parents' sins.

With a gentle stroke of his cheek she smiled and asked, "When will you start believing that you have my heart, Jon? That I love you.”

The King in the North intertwined their fingers, the rough pad of his thumb caressing her skin. He exhaled before trailing his gaze from their joined hands to look into her eyes, a beautifully bittersweet twinkle of shyness and dry mirth in them.

“Until I am certain that the gods are not fucking with me and that t’is not but a dream, Dany. Until the truth of it cleanses me of the guilt that you do not gain anything from loving me other than a kingdom of ice and its hardened people. Other than the love I bear for you.”

Why he says such things will always claw at her heart, and all she could do every time was shake her head and remind him all he does for her, all he offers in this relationship. He has put her on a pedestal that she hardly deserves.

“Do you doubt my love?” was her quiet question, a sudden thought that turned into words before she could think about it. She bit her lip as she waited for his response.

She did not have to wait at all for surprise took hold of his face.

“It’s not _you_ I doubt.” He swallowed before pressing his lips to the back of the hand he held. “It’s this world and myself- I’ve had you, Dany. I _have_ you. If this is but a dream I…”

“Well, it’s not. I am very real, and I love you with a strength that terrifies me, Jon,” she pressed their foreheads together.

She was not afraid of loving him, but she was terrified of what she would be capable of doing should anyone dare harm or take him from her. Just like the wolf in whose arms she was wrapped around a dragon’s love was just as fierce. Just as deadly when threatened.

He nodded in agreement, sighing.

“Aye.”

“Put your worries and doubts to rest, my love,” Daenerys soothed, thumbing the bristly hair covering his cheek. “I love you today and will continue to do so until the end of my days.” He leaned into her touch, his stubble tickling her palm.

“I am yours,” Jon echoed, and then claimed her mouth in an ardent kiss. When they parted he boldly claimed her for himself, becoming of the king she knew he was. “And you are mine.”

With a wide smile she nodded, gazing up at him as she brushed an errant raven lock of his hair away from his eye, tucking it behind his ear.

“Aye, Jon Snow.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is my longest oneshot/drabble so far! :D 
> 
> Do let me know your thoughts re: smut (I haven't written full smut in a long while) and the actual flow of Daenerys' thoughts. 
> 
> Leave some love and sugar if you liked it or would like to read more stuff like this from me. <3


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